Genre-colored glasses
Thoughts on genre, language, grammar, and other
rhetorical and linguistic norms
rhetorical and linguistic norms
 Image by bluebudgie from Pixabay And 5 Things NOT to DoI am feeling heartsick and enormously sorrowful after yet another, and another, mass shooting in the US. We all are. Like others, I want to DO something about it. Not just analyze it, talk about it, feel bad about it. Another one is coming. More mass shootings are coming. I want to DO something that will make them come less often, allow fewer of them to happen. But what can I do that will actually make any difference? Because I’m also, like others, feeling hopeless and powerless. I'm writing another post after another mass shooting. I even had a category of blog posts to add this one to--"mass shootings" That's just wrong. Nothing is changing Many of us have been doing many things that don’t work, that reinforce our sense of powerlessness. Here are 5 things NOT to do:
That can’t stand. We have to take action. Meaningful, purposeful action. Here are 5 things TO DO that have a better chance of making a difference:
And vote for all who support stricter gun control legislation and vote against any who resist gun control and instead blame immigrants or mental health systems or even hateful tweeters instead of proposing and supporting specific gun control laws Yes, other issues matter in every election, and yes, other systemic issues contribute to mass shootings, but we have to act together in overwhelming numbers and soon to get military weapons and ammunition out of the hands of shooters before any other actions stand a chance of being effective. We have to do what we can NOW to limit the number and damage of mass shootings. You don’t have to agree with me about which policies to support, but I know you too feel the devastation. Find solutions you believe in, whatever evidence shows might work. You can search congress.gov for federal proposals that have been introduced and legiscan.com for proposals in all 50 states as well as Congress. Push for those solutions to the people who can make them happen. Vote for those people who commit to making them happen. Send laws in addition to thoughts and prayers. And send a message. VOTE  Image by amberzen from Pixabay
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Sometimes writing isn't enough Writing does some things really well. Sometimes that isn’t enough. As much as I love writing, sometimes it isn’t enough. As important as writing is, sometimes it isn’t enough. Sometimes writers need to become speakers. This is not a story on how to promote your blog or how writers should use social media. You can find lots of good advice on those topics online elsewhere. This is a story on the limitations of writing in any medium. And why. And when you might need to speak instead I like to think that once I’ve written something down, especially once my writing has been published, my work is done and now people know . . . whatever it is I wanted them to know. But our writing doesn’t have impact until it’s read. And even then writing can have less impact than the same information presented in other media or genres. Consider the impact of the many articles and books written about the unjust convictions and imprisonment of the “Central Park Five.” Now consider the impact of one Netflix dramatic series, “When They See Us.” Writing (and even an earlier documentary) wasn’t enough. Consider the difference between writing a report and testifying before Congress. After special counsel Robert Mueller published his team’s 2-volume, 448-page report (plus many more pages of appendixes), he remained publicly silent. “We chose those words carefully,” Mr. Mueller eventually said, “and the work speaks for itself.” If only that were true. If only our words were always enough and could speak for themselves. But the case of Mueller’s report illustrates a few key facts about writing:
How many times have you decided not to read an article in The Atlantic or Harper’s or the New York Times Magazine because you didn’t have time or it was just too long? Writing needs to be read. 2. Dense or long texts require a lot of cognitive processing (brain work) that can make it hard for readers to hang onto. By page 73 and its footnote number 341, even the most intrepid reader might be struggling to keep straight one more phone call and email between a Russian and Michael Cohen. How many times have you started reading an article or story and quit before the end because it was just too much work for the payoff? Or simply found yourself lost in the middle, trying to remember how this part fits into the topic you started with? Or trying to process a complicated sentence with multiple moving parts? 3. Words and sentences require interpretation. Mueller might have thought the Conclusion would “speak for itself” for those who reached page 200+ and the Conclusion to the Executive Summary to Volume II of the report Conclusion But Attorney General William Barr and the President both offered interpretations of that conclusion apparently at odds with what Mueller thinks the report said. Which half of the concluding sentence do you choose to focus on: “Accordingly, while this report does not conclude that the President committed a crime”? or “it also does not exonerate him”? Those negatives leave plenty of room for misunderstanding and misuse, as do the many qualifiers before them. Even the first word of that last sentence, “Accordingly,” requires readers to process a subtle interpretation of which preceding statements affect the report’s conclusions and in what ways. Most sentences are like that, with even the most transparent requiring interpretation. “I know where you live.” Is that a statement that I don’t need to give you my address? Or is it a threat? And finally 4. Writing lacks face-to-face contact. The good thing about writing is that the audience doesn’t have to be present. Writing carries facts, ideas, and experiences well beyond the moment, well beyond this place and time, leaving a lasting record that can be experienced by strangers in the future. The bad thing about writing is that the audience doesn’t have to be present. There’s no feedback loop, no immediate audience to offer reactions or ask questions. No chance for the writer to discover a misunderstanding or misinterpretation and correct it (at least not until the work’s revised edition). Writing allows no reading of facial expression or body language, no use of impassioned intonation or leaning forward to convey intensity or to persuade. For a special counsel’s report, that’s probably a good thing, as Mueller clearly believed. For those deciding the country’s future, writing leaves something to be desired. Hence the requests for Mueller to testify before Congressional committees. In the end, Mueller’s written words couldn’t speak for themselves Because writing and speaking are different When I teach scientists and other researchers how to write up their research results, I teach them ways of managing that cognitive load, the amount of brain work required of readers, tips like:
But sometimes, even the most well-crafted, information-managed writing remains challenging and needs to be unpacked. Sometimes, dense writing requires expansion or elaboration. And sometimes the situation requires that writing shift to speaking, as the Mueller report and testimony reveal:
For managers conveying news or inspiring loyalty, for teachers insisting on in-person and not just online class time, for writers deciding when and how to follow up their publications, and for special counsels who want the work to just speak for itself, It pays to understand the limitations of writing and why, sometimes, words can’t speak for themselves.  "hidden ? words" by wonder-ing is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0  Photo by Amy Devitt In my last post, I wrote about the power of pronouns and especially the power of “we” to include some people and exclude others. Today, I’m exploring the pronoun “they” and its power to separate as well as gather. That’s what pronouns do. As I wrote in the last post, prompted by a column by Leonard Pitts, Jr. Pronouns reveal the unconscious nature of our language, words we human beings use automatically without struggling to choose just the right word. But sometimes we who care about being aware should choose those pronouns more deliberately. It may take someone else pointing out when we are using pronouns to exclude without awareness. And we definitely need those like Pitts to call out others using pronouns to exclude through prejudice. Connie Schultz called out the current president for referring to Puerto Ricans as “they,” and she explains how it reveals his racism and his unwillingness to include Puerto Ricans as Americans. It reveals, in my terms, his unwillingness to include Puerto Ricans as “we.” Donald Trump is dumping again on Puerto Rico, which was devastated by Hurricane Maria in 2017 and remains in dire need of help that has never come. “I’ve taken better care of Puerto Rico than any man ever,” Trump said last week. “They’ve got to spend the money wisely. They don’t know how to spend the money.” Of course we English-speaking human beings need pronouns like “we” and “they” in our language to refer to groups, but people give pronouns added power by using pronouns to separate “us” from “them,” the insiders from the outsiders, the right-thinkers from the wrong-thinkers. Americans from non-Americans. Notice how different his statement would have been if he had included Puerto Ricans as “us” “We’ve got to spend our money wisely in Puerto Rico.” It might still have been just as wrong-headed a statement about the problems in Puerto Rico (as Schultz points out, Puerto Rico has received only about a quarter of the money allocated since the devastation of Hurricane Maria in 2017). But it would have been a statement about “our” problems and “our” actions, not some other “they” who don’t know how to spend the money “we” so generously give them. Just like “we,” everyone uses “they” to refer to groups, but some “they”s mean more than others. Think about all the times you’ve heard or read someone describe some other group of people about whom they disapprove. It’s always about a “they” “They” don’t know how to spend money Well, some of them don't, are, and must be--maybe. But some of the individuals those statements lump together? Nope You probably noticed that I lumped together some obviously prejudiced, racist, sexist, homophobic, political “they” statements with some seemingly less charged. I’m guessing you thought of “these kids today” (said in a growly low codger voice) spending all their time on their phones. Those “they” statements, too, lump together individuals who behave quite differently, who have different motivations and backgrounds, who are minimized by being separated out as “they.” Every time people use “they” it creates a group who is not “me” or “you.” There’s a reason “they” is called a third-person pronoun. Not the center of the universe, the first person who matters, “I.” Not the people I know and recognize and speak to, the second person in the room, “you.” But the people outside this room, people being talked about by “me” and “you.” [Don’t get me started on other possible uses of “you,” especially as in “you people,” as a speaker recently referred to my colleagues and me. That’s just talking about “them” but to their faces, as people at the receiving end of discrimination all their lives know far better than I do.] Sometimes “they” refers to a well-defined and specific group. Sometimes it’s more insidious. It’s one thing to say about my friends’ children, “They treated her very well on Mother’s Day,” another to say, “Children treat their parents so well. They are such a blessing.” Well, some are, some aren’t. It’s one thing to say about Felicity Huffman, Lori Loughlin, and other parents who bought their children’s way into preferred universities, “They are cheating.” It’s another thing to say, “Wealthy people—They think they are above the law.” I imagine some do, some don’t. Even when people are clearly referring to a category to which they don’t belong—as, say, my talking about rich people—the very act of creating a “they” is potentially harmful, a lumping together of individuals that we language-users need to be more aware of. Who do we think of as “they”? Who doesn’t belong to “us”? Notice your own use of “they” for a week, or for one day. Most often I’m guessing you’ll be referring to specific people—innocent, innocuous. Occasionally, perhaps, you’ll be creating an other, a group of “them” who are not like “you” or “us.” Do you see what you’re doing there? Becoming aware of language is tough. It starts, I think, with noticing other people’s language. Check out who is “we” and “they” in letters to the editor, political tweets, mission statements, office hallway conversations. Maybe then notice your own work or family conversations. Can you name the individuals you’re talking about, and are you saying something true about those individuals? Or are you getting glimpses into your own categories, your own ways of grouping people who are not like you? That’s what pronouns do. That’s what we all do, whether we notice it or not. Let’s become an “us,” people who notice our “we”s and “they”s, who notice how others separate others from themselves. Maybe we even start to call out some of “them” who are using “they” and “we” insidiously. Do you see what we could do there?  WE by John Hain, Pixabay license  Image by Karolina Grabowska from Pixabay The Power of PronounsWho is your “we”? Whenever you say or write the word “we,” who do you mean? Your family? Your colleagues? Your friends? Fellow fans of a team, sport, hobby, avocation, activity? Right-thinking allies? “We” have a family reunion every year. “We” raised $4,000 for the public library last quarter. “We” are working to recruit new students to our program. “We” root for the Royals (or the Jayhawks, or the Texas Tech Raiders). “We” (by which I mean human beings) define ourselves in part through our communities, our groups—and our pronouns. We show who we think we belong with through who we include in “we” “us” “our” Who are your “we”s? “We” (by which I mean human beings again) also define ourselves in part through who we do NOT include in our “we.” “We” may live in a red state, but at least “we” defeated Kris Kobach for governor. “We [right-thinking people (joke intended), aka Democrats, progressives, and moderates] defeated Kobach” Or “we haven’t fully assimilated African-American citizens.” The last “we” comes from Patrick Buchanan by way of a column from the observant Leonard Pitts, Jr. “Who is we?” Pitts asks. “When Buchanan says “we,” he does mean America. But when he says “America,” he means white people.” Even as Buchanan states that African-Americans helped build this country, he simultaneously excludes them: “we” have not yet assimilated “them.” “We” must mean white people. The definition of who is included as “Americans” matters in whether “we” Americans will continue as a united nation or fail in the ideals on which the country is founded. “If America fails,” Pitts writes, “…it will be because he [Buchanan] and people like him still arrogantly arrogate unto themselves, as if handed down from the very hand of God, the right to determine who “we” is. “We” includes and excludes simultaneously. It is possible—maybe even likely—that Buchanan is not aware of how his use of “we” excludes African-Americans. He simply arrogantly assumes the whiteness of America. It’s that very lack of awareness about the effects of our words that I fight against. I’ve written before about how pronouns send subtle messages, as the use of “we” and “you” did in the Inaugural address. While Pitts’ column (or mine) is unlikely to change Pat Buchanan’s perspective, “we” who care about inclusion and fairness and becoming aware of our own biases can do better. We can start noticing who our “we” is and who “we” is not. And we can deliberately include more people as “us” Try for one day noticing who you refer to with those pronouns that include you. It’s hard to notice! And it may take someone else to help us spot the assumptions behind what we say. In my own “we”s I noticed some that were obvious and literal—“we [my friends and I] should try out that new microbrewery.” But I also spotted some that were more subtle and unspoken-- “We aren’t doing enough for the homeless.” When I say, “We need to do more for the homeless,” I’m excluding the homeless from “us” and presuming that “we” with homes are the ones who are capable of making change, without those who are insecure in their housing included in that process except as passive recipients of our good works and largesse. Sometimes we even use “we” to include ourselves in an idea while excluding ourselves from responsibility for acting. “We [by which I mean you, local government officials] aren’t doing enough for the homeless.” Compare that to “We, meaning the community that includes those without homes and including me, need to do more to figure out what to do.” Pronouns reveal the unconscious nature of our language, words we human beings use automatically without struggling to choose just the right word. But sometimes we who care about being aware should choose those pronouns more deliberately. It may take someone else pointing out when we are using pronouns to exclude without awareness. And we definitely need those like Pitts to call out others using pronouns to exclude through prejudice. Those like Connie Schultz in her column on calling Puerto Ricans “they” in contrast to Americans. But that’s a pronoun for another day, one you can start watching in your own language. Part Two to come: Who is your “they”?  Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay |
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